


Something Bigger Than 'Us'

by toumaki_chan



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan, Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Angst, Attack on Titan/Tokyo Ghoul, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Fluff, Humour, Multi, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-29
Updated: 2015-09-21
Packaged: 2018-04-17 20:37:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4680533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toumaki_chan/pseuds/toumaki_chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on the Attack on Titan setting, integrated with elements and characters of Tokyo Ghoul, the story follows the leads of Eren and Kaneki who are facing the reality of this environment, and the consequences that come with it. Both are unique to their society, and only the two of them can amend the horrors that humanity got itself into if they can learn to get along. But when they do, will these feelings end up being their saviour or their downfall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A History in Humanity

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, so this is my TG/AOT fic, and I hope you all like it! It was a super fun concept to come up with (credits for the idea are also shared with mockingscout (her AO3 name) and I'm looking forward to seeing where we take it. Please give it time because yes, it is a slow build, but I promise things will get super exciting soon and I hope to focus a lot of character relationships and development, as well as the plot line and setting. Thank you for reading!

With a lingering summer heat and the faintest autumn breeze, early September was proving to be as beautiful as the previous month. Ginger leaves still fluttered comfortably on tree branches, sprouted from lean tree trunks that lined the streets, keeping the pavement clear for children to chase each as they played games of tag, and for workers to haul up multiple barrows of supplies for their businesses: wood, wheat, metal scraps and coal. The Capital’s ladies were parading the streets with their fancy dresses, embroidered with lace and jewels. Some sported a summer hat to protect their fair faces from the beating heat of the sun, while others allowed the light to flush their cheeks, using only ornately designed fans to cool themselves. The men were just as handsome: still fashioning their suits and ties despite the summer temperatures: the men patted beads of sweat from their glossy foreheads with handkerchiefs and drank a cool cider in one of the many bars scattered along the main street.

Eren felt slightly out of place here. Probing eyes studied him as he walked along side his significantly-shorter-than-him commander, the Wings of Freedom proudly printed on their backs... although, many citizens still didn’t consider the symbol to one of pride: it was the symbol which represented the unworthy recipient of their increasing tax payments that funded failure after failure of missions to the outer walls. Despite their advancements in the past one hundred years, humanity – if it could even be called humanity any longer – was still failing.

“Are you Miss Amelia Khan?”

Eren was now leaning idly against a crumbling brick wall that housed a small bar, ran by an old friend of Levi’s who he managed to earn a citizenship for many years ago. Levi was ever generous to his underground friends. He was retrieving some water for the pair, thirsty as the day dragged on, so Eren was left to watch the torturous incident unfold before his eyes. A young women, possibly in her very early thirties, who was very pretty with shadowy, dark hair curling far down her back and green eyes that were seldom seen against such tanned skin, was standing in front of the threatening military policeman, who had voiced the question. She was resting anxiously against the front door of a rundown hotel which she was the owner of, with a girl of three of four clinging to her leg. Nodding quickly in response, she held the girl closer to her, not making eye contact with the policeman.

“We are here to remove your daughter – Eliza Khan. We’ve been informed she has not taken up your Ghoul characteristics, and so must be taken to the outer pens with her father after genetic confirmation at the lab.”

The women collapsed at the door, grasping dependently at her child who looked frightened and confused. Petting her head, the mother whispered to her daughter something in hushed tones, which evoked the authoritative hand of the police man to clamp her shoulder and prise her from her daughter.

“Mommy, am I going to live with daddy?”

“Yes sweetie, you are. You’ll be safe with daddy, I promise. You don’t have to hide who you are anymore.”

The young girl nodded excitedly, and the mother wrapped her back in her arms tighter than before. Embracing her in response, the young girl was also crying. Perhaps she was aware of what was happening, perhaps he wasn’t. The policeman again pulled the mother from the child, but this time the women pushed back at him angrily.

“Ma’am, if you do that again I will report you for assaulting a military policeman.”

“The hell do I care?” she screamed, gently stroking her daughters face and resting her head against hers. She looked desperate.

Scooping up the young girl, the military policeman threw her over his broad shoulders. Standing a foot or two taller than the mother, he rendered her attempts of reaching for her daughter futile, and he didn’t even flinch as she lashed out at him, beating his muscular back, screaming for her daughter back. She also screamed for help, but no-one listened. These were common occurrences, like drunks passed out on street corners or prostitutes flirting with the rich upper-class men at bars.

Stretching her hand for her mother, the girl was also crying; her ringlet curls sticking to her dampened cheeks, her eyes – so like her mother’s – overflowing with tears. Eren suddenly thought back to that day, six years ago, when he lost his own mother. How helpless he had been. His eyes stung as he witnessed the girl being taken, how she reminded him so much of his old self at that moment all those years ago.

“What’s wrong, Jaeger?” Levi questioned, passing him a mug of water whilst clattering his own on the table beside them. When Levi followed the gaze of Eren’s eyes, he noticed the mother crying on the floor hysterically and the girl being escorted away. Heavily, he sighed and looked back the ground as Eren kept his eyes trained on the young girl.

“We’d better go. Let me... let me try explaining some things to you.”

Levi led Eren hastily by his elbow away from the sobbing mother, abandoning the mugs of water on the table, untouched.

***

“Where are we going?”

“Underground. I want to take you for a walk to where I used to be. Before Erwin found me.”

“Why,” Eren quizzed, “I don’t want to make you return to that place, I know how awful it was for you and I -”

“No, no. It’s actually comforting.”

They had followed a flight of stairs underground to a dimly lit hall, leading out into the city of the capital’s underground. The spacious cave that Eren now found himself sitting it was where Levi shared that took his friend from his past life to train with the 3DMG. Isabella, her name had been. Sitting uncomfortably on a rock, Eren felt quite regretful at not having drank the water, as his throat felt a little dry now. But that could also have been from holding back tears. Or inhaling all the dust down here.

“Hm, where to start,” Levi mumbled to himself, glimpsing up at the hole in the ceiling that filtered through the dimmest rays of sunshine from the world above.

“Just go from the start. Indulge me in a history lesson,” Eren prompted.

“Alright, now this might be a bit lengthy, but there’s a lot you have to understand.”

“We have time.”

“Well,” Levi sighed, shrugging his shoulders, “I guess I’ll start at the beginning, although you’ll already know most of it. Around one hundred years ago, our people lived in relative peace. The Titan’s were still a real threat, yes, but that’s the way it’s always been. The King at the time was just and pious, people from all classes of society, all circles of the wall, adored him. I heard he was also very handsome – charm helps in politics, you see. However, a new threat emerged. A band of cannibals arrived at one of our outer districts – the opposite side from the largest pen – Pen B. They ate everyone – men, women and children alike. Estimates from historians say there were about one hundred and twenty of them... some say more, some say less. These cannibals were different from human kind though... they were what we are today. Ghouls.”

“So they were also humans?”

“To an extent, yes. They were stronger, faster, more agile. They had kagunes. To the humans back then, they were fearsome beasts. It seemed for a few weeks they were satisfied living in that outer district, and in that time, the King had sent messengers to request they meet to have talk. The one’s known today as the Transformation talks, because they transformed our society and us as humans. At those meetings, which took place over two painfully weary weeks, it was agreed that the ghouls could reside within the walls as they too feared the titans. Yet, this was not all the ghouls were granted – they were approved that outer four districts to be designated feeding pens for them. There, they could legally breed humans in a civilized way, kill them humanely at a suitable age and feed off of them. Those in the inner walls, however, were to remain untouched. In return, the Capital got to study the ghouls and how they worked, biologically. This is what lead to The Serum and our advanced weaponry we use today.”

“So when did they first starting changing the old humans... into ghouls?”

“There was a lot of research done over the first twenty years, but the first successful generation were issued the serum twenty five years after the ghouls arrived. Two years later, everyone within the walls was issued The Serum. That was when it was discovered that those under the age of three rejected The Serum and this often caused fatalities, so now they wait till children are three years of and just treat them with care and gentleness and as their own until this time. Those that don’t take up The Serum -”

“Get taken from their families and used as food in the pens, right?” Eren was now glaring frostily at Levi, livid he was even trying to rationalize this. Earlier that day, he had just saw a human child being ripped from her mother’s arms because her body wouldn’t take up the Ghoul serum. So now, she was to become Ghoul food. She would be a breeder in the pen when she turned 16, birth her first child at 17 and then be forced to birth five more children before the age of 35 to keep ‘stock levels up’. Then, she would be killed at that age for food.

“I’d die without them, Eren. We all would.” At that moment, Levi closed his eyes tightly and reopened with the black eyes of ghouls, the piercing red pupils focused solely on Eren. Though Eren was very aware ghouls needed human food, and had been accepting – no, supportive! – of it until only last year, he now felt guilt twining in his stomach for what he was and how he narrowly escaped a similar fate. Survivors guilt, some called it.

“Just because you’re like to old humans Eren, and not a ghoul, doesn’t mean I’m going to eat you. If you’re scared, don’t be. You have our protection.”

Eren looked at the floor and shook his head. It wasn’t that he was afraid, in fact, he was more than tolerant of inevitable death since joining the Survey Corps than he’d ever been in his life. Having witnessed such death in his life, he didn’t fear it – it was ordinary. But one thing he did fear was his isolation. Since his father injected him with titan serum, he had gotten really sick. Some days he would feel fine, others he could barely walk. It was a wonder he graduated from military school, and even more so that the Survey Corps accepted him willingly. It wasn’t until he turned into his titan form protecting Armin and Mikasa from the canon fire the day the colossal titan showed up, did he feel better. Hanji had done many tests on him, and discovered he was no longer ghoul. They re-injected him with the serum, but it was killed by his system as a disease. As a parasite. Later, Hanji discovered that the two serums – Titan and Ghoul – had been fighting inside him, and it was the Titan serum that emerged the strongest. After plentiful trials, Eren had ultimately gotten the King’s blessing to remain a part of society despite the absence of his Ghoul form, due to his usefulness to the Survey Corps and humanity as Titan shifter.

Eren laughed a little. Humanity – it was bizarre they still titled themselves this. Humane was the last thing they were, hell – they weren’t even biologically human anymore. The original Ghouls had moved on years ago and built a smaller fortified town twenty miles away. They still used Pen B – the biggest of all the pens and the one they had claimed exclusively when they first settled – and operated the whole thing themselves, hiring those within humanity to breed and deliver food to them through an underground safe route.

“How did the first Ghouls live before us?”

“Ah,” Levi smiled, somewhat thankful that Eren had moved on from his internalised anger towards the world, “well we don’t really know. They refused to tell us – some say there are others like us living within walls, some say they fed on titans. Some say, and I’m not even kidding here, that they are aliens.”

Eren smirked at that, but quickly withdrew his smile. Levi returned his eyes to their human characteristics and looked forlornly at Eren, who was kicking the dirt with his feet aimlessly.

“You know, I’m sorry Eren. Maybe what we’re doing is wrong. Maybe, we’ll all be sent to hell for it. But do you know something? We can’t change it. It is the way it is. All we can do is protect the people that we still have and do our job as soldiers. And that’s what I expect of you... human, titan or ghoul.”

“I understand, sir. It’s wishful thinking I can make a change.”

Levi heaved himself up with a hushed grunt, stretched out his back and cracked his knuckles. Turning to his green eyed friend, he extended a cold hand to pull him to his feet and dusted off his shoulders.

“Christ Jaeger, you’d think you rolled around in dirt all day like a farm animal, this is filthy!”

Eren blushed a little and Levi scowled a lot.

“Sorry Captain, it must have been the wall I was leaning against earlier outside the bar.”

“Well don’t do that, you brat, take pride in your uniform. Stand tall and proud like you mean it, Jaeger. Now, shall we go for a little tour of my old abode?” Levi bowed and extended a hand in the direction Eren should walk, acting like a butler.

Eren laughed a little and nodded eagerly – he’d never been in the underground before and though it smelt a little like stale alcohol and piss, it was otherwise pretty normal. Also, it was unpredictably spacious and tidy. Levi had mentioned that they weren’t going through the rougher area and so were taking a long way to his old dwelling, where a friend of his was currently staying. Turns out Levi still rented out his underground house, if that was even a thing that could happen. Either way, it was certainly not legal.

The underground was like a maze and Levi navigated it with sound familiarity. Not once did he take a wrong turn. Eren walked by countless drunks collapsed unconsciously outside brothels, where prostitutes curled their fingers at him from the windows and showed him more than he cared to see of their bodies. Levi never once talked ill of anyone there, and explained how everyone was just trying to get by – how this was all they’d ever known. Eren believed that. Levi had once been a thug and thief but he was not a bad person: he cared more for humanity than anyone else he knew and was loyal to his cause. People here seemed to be clumped into small, densely populated communities of around two to three hundred people. After leaving one of these communities, another hundred yards away was another. Between the communities were often open areas where children played with rocks and dirt and rope, games like hop scotch and skipping. They even walked past a young couple dancing across one; ballroom dancing like the wealthy people did at their balls and estate parties. Although they certainly didn’t look the part, the young couple did dance better than anyone Eren had seen and had more hope and love in their eyes than he thought possible.

Finally, they were brought to a halt outside a house, or perhaps it was two houses, after twenty minutes of walking. It seemed relatively large and was in a quiet area of the underground, a suburb of a community. Twenty dusty steps lead up to a landing where you could either chose to go left or right – this is where Eren got the idea of two houses from. On the left was a dimly lit house with the sounds of tense voices inside that made Eren shiver a little. The one on the right was pitch black, but an elderly man was stood smoking a rolled up cigarette outside, surveying Levi with caution.

“Good afternoon, Bran,” Levi chatted, leading Eren up the steps. This must have been the man Levi was letting his place to. Bran nodded back in return, making a remark about the weather then laughing till he choked on his smoke.

“It’s funny you see, because there is no weather underground,” he had explained to Eren as he set his foot on the landing. Eren chuckled weakly in response, even though he was trying his best to look genuinely amused by it. He was too nervous to laugh. Levi sighed and turned left, scuffing his feet against the dirt as he ascended.

“Oh, that... that one’s not yours?” Eren enquired, pointing the house where Bran was standing, clapping for the couple dancing.

“No, this is mine.”

“Oh, okay,” Eren acknowledged, and crept warily behind Levi. Whoever was in house did not sound friendly. Who was in there... drug dealers? Murderers? Thieves? Eren shook his head shamefully; he shouldn’t think like that. This is what Levi used to be, where he used to live. Scolding himself for thinking to lowly of those inside, he took a deep breath and remembered that they were people like he was; in dire circumstances, and they were to be treated as equals. Guilt constricted his throat for his initial worries, and he could only manage a small squeak when Levi asked him if he was okay with being here. Levi pushed open the door and walked inside.

“Hey, fuckers. Want to explain the mess?”

Eren followed Levi inside and peered around the room. Dotted around a table, scattered with pictures of people – paperclipped to pieces of paper illustrated with scrawling handwriting, were four people sitting. Two others stood behind, leaning against a wall and chatting nonchalantly. Sitting closest to the door was a tall man and a rather peculiar ruby suit, with striking, purple hair. He welcomed Levi with applause and fake tears, offering him his seat – not before wiping it down with his checked handkerchief he pulled from his breast pocket, though. Levi took it as the enthused male spun on his heels to repeat his routine with Eren.

“My, my. What have we here? He smells... delicious. Almost as good as Kaneki-kun. But also like a decaying titan carcass the closer I get – what is his deal?”

“His ‘deal’ is none of your concern, Mr Tsukiyama. I’d like a black tea.”

“I don’t know how you can palette that, Levi.”

‘Mr Tsukiyama’ eyed up Eren suspiciously before heading off to a back room. Another two purple haired people followed behind – they had looked young, maybe a year older than Eren. He guessed the pair were siblings as they were too similar in appearance to be otherwise; it was the unimpressed look they both wore naturally that gave it away.

“Hi there, friend!” a little girl sang, rising from her chair and skipping to Eren, taking his hands lovingly. Eren smiled as he introduced herself. Her name was Hinami - she was only fourteen, and although he did not say, Eren may have guessed she were only eleven or twelve because she was so tiny. With a beaming smile, she offered him her chair and after a little argument and persuasion, Eren sank into it comfortably and looked at the face next to him. He was certainly the oldest of them all and his beard was only to be found on the point of his chin, shaped into a spiral. Eren considered how much time that must have taken to perfect before his thoughts were interrupted by the owner of the spiralled beard, also introducing himself to Eren as Banjou. Banjou seemed to be very lovely; he was certainly welcoming and even offered to get him a coffee from the kitchen. Next to him, Hinami took the newly vacant chair and started chatting away to him.

Apparently, she lost her parents too when she was younger, and Eren could feel her pain. Levi walked around the room and examined the hygiene levels thoroughly as Hinami babbled on about how she is teaching the girl across the street to read and write, and how she herself was learning to fight. Hinami almost fell out of her seat when Eren offered to teach her some things that he learnt in his training.

“Nii-chan, Eren says he can teach me some military moves, isn’t that cool!”

Her statement was directed across at the boy in the wooden kitchen chair. Not raising his head since Levi and Eren’s entrance, this was the first time he’d glanced up. He smiled a beautiful, warm smile at Hinami.

“I think that’s great, Hinami-chan. You better not try any of those on me, though!”

His laugh was as refreshing as iced lemonade on a summers evening, melodic; it carried through the room effortlessly and encouraged Hinami to giggle too. The boy himself was a two or three years older than Eren, and wore his hair long like Armin’s, but it had a natural wave to it. It was also white, like January snowdrops, and his pale complexion made him look angelic. He wore a loose black t-shirt and dark pants with nothing on his feet, which were crossed in front of him on the chair. Scanning his hands from picture to picture, Eren noticed his nails to be black too and wondered if he painted them. Perhaps he was sick, after all, he was awfully ashen.

“Hey, Eren. It’s lovely to meet you – my name is Kaneki Ken. I’m a bit distracted here at the moment; please don’t mistake me for being rude.”

“Oh no, not at all,” Eren replied, waving his hands about and looking quite flustered. “So, what is it that you’re doing there?”

“Oh, this?” Kaneki pointed his frail finger at the table of pictures and paper and smiled a little. Glancing fleetingly at Eren’s military badge, he scooped all the pieces of paper together and smiled kindly. “It’s probably best you don’t know.”

“Oh, Mr Kaneki, I think you’ll find it’s best we do know if it’s going on in my house,” Levi bluntly stated, screwing up his face at the amount of dust that sat on his finger after running it over the fireplace. Kaneki scratched the back of his head and smiled warily. He gestured for Hinami to leave and Levi sat in her place, Tsukiyama across from him as he delivered Levi is tea.

“Well, we need to make a living. We do, uh, a kind of trade.”

“What kind of trade?” Levi enquired, sipping his tea.

“It’s a trade that satisfies the highest of those in the underground. Our products serve as a luxury meal, a play toy, a servant even.”

Eren looked at the pictures of the faces on the table, and raised his eyebrows in horror as he dawned on him the type of trade they may be into. Levi sat his tea on the table clumsily, spilling a little on the table. That would stain if it wasn’t cleaned soon, but Levi payed it no notice.

“Mr Tsukiyama, you cannot be telling me you’re using my house as a base for your human trafficking operations.”

“The human never come through here – it’s straight from the pen to the customer.”

Eren rose up and glowered down at Kaneki furiously, who was now sifting through the photographs again. His cheeks were burning as he looked at the many faces of those on the table who would be sold as slaves, as prostitutes or torture toys for the sickest in society, and kicked the table at Kaneki violently, who fell backwards off his chair and onto the ground. Levi restrained Eren and covered his eyes to calm him down, praying that he wouldn’t transform in the underground – or more importantly, in his damn house. He’d bring the whole roof down.

Eren was lead to his seat as Tsukiyama attended to Kaneki, who assured him repeatedly that he was okay and he wasn’t hurt. The chair didn’t fare so well though, as Eren discovered when Levi returned his sight to him, and one leg of the wooden stool was hanging off loosely. When he looked at Kaneki, he realised that only one of his eyes had turned black and ghoul-like, red veins stretching further that just his eyes, marking his cheeks and the bridge of his nose.

“Mr Kaneki... you’re eye. There’s only, one?” Levi asked, sitting down. Kaneki covered this eye and returned to his seat blushing at his lack of control, and shrugged a little. He seemed to be in no mood to talk about this... but Levi wasn’t done yet.

“How the hell did that happen? You know, my friend Hanji would love to study you... we could get you a temp citizenship and protection for it and she is honestly the nicest -”

“Go to hell. I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Please, Ken...”

“DON’T call me by my first name Mr Ackerman. I’m done here.”

Storming out the house, he slammed the door behind and shuffled through the street and out of site. Tsukiyama looked condemningly at Levi, and shook his head.

“Mr Tsukiyama, if you’d like to keep your residency here, I suggest you convince that brat to come with me. I’ll be back next week – do not disappoint me or your human trafficking business may just fall through. Come Eren, we’re leaving.”

As Levi slammed the front door behind him, Eren walked silently away from the house, ignoring old Bran’s persistent interrogation at what the hell went on in there. Levi also walked silently, and from behind, although he never looked back, he heard Mr Tsukiyama opening the door and shouting profanities at Levi.

“FUCK YOU, LEVI!”

“Fuck you too,” Levi hissed quietly, only loud enough for he and Eren to hear.


	2. Introductions and Reconciliations

_A tender breeze rustled leaves that tripped over his laces as he stood lifelessly in the darkness of the tunnel. From both sides, there was a dull, but white, light which was inviting. He stood in the darkest part of the tunnel but could clearly see the pictures plastering the wall that stretched far above his head; each picture had a pair of darkened eyes staring back at him. Looking left, right, and then left again, Kaneki decided to pace carefully towards the west side of the tunnel and he skimmed his fingers over the pictures as he walked. A slight pain nipped at his finger tip and he stopped to investigate._

_Ruby red liquid formed in a droplet around the fresh cut; looking back, there was a picture dangling at such an angle it gave him a paper cut. Retracing his steps, he tore the picture off the wall with his clean hand. Kaneki drew it to beneath his chest and glanced down, bringing the cut to his mouth and sucking at the blood, wincing a little. The face was familiar somehow; strange green eyes glaring back at his. A mop of chestnut brown hair tickled at the boy’s eyebrows, his jawbone angular but somehow still soft. Bringing the picture closer, he screwed up his face a little as he tried to identify the stranger._

_Suddenly, a flood of images hit, of the boy in the picture shouting at him; eyes aflame, kicking the table at him. He pulled his finger from his mouth and stroked over the neck of the picture, leaving a slight smear of blood from his still bleeding cut. Dropping the card as he realised what the picture was – a picture from his human trade market – he turned sharply to the right, eager to run from this direction. Before he could make it any further, he tripped over a heavy obstacle and landed face first on the floor of the tunnel, which had an overflowing river pictures across it. Every picture was of the green eyed boy._

_Glancing behind, what he saw was a dead body, hand cupping a pool of blood coming from the neck. Dead, green eyes looked at him from the body, as the blood continued to pour out. Snaking through the pictures, the blood of the deceased swimming towards Kaneki’s own hands, he lurched up and stumbled backwards. His lungs couldn’t catch enough air and his head began to spin, palms sweating. Bumping into a warm figure behind him, he turned on his heels and came face to face with the same dead body, only this time, the body was alive and talking, no – screaming – at him, arms outstretched to clutch violently at his throat._

_“You piece of filth, you’re scum. Those are people. You send them to their deaths everyday – and if not that, to a lifetime of suffering and pain. People like me. You persecute us. You sicken me, you sick bastard. Trading humans like you would livestock. You sick fucking bastard!”_

With a sharp inhale, Kaneki projected himself upright and clutched at the edges of the bed. Sweat beaded around his hairline and his palms were clammy. Once he caught his breath, he flopped back onto the pillow faintly, rubbing his face for a moment with his hands and scarping back his hair. His bare skin stuck to the covers in a sweaty mess that felt uncomfortable, but Kaneki wasn’t fussed: his mind was preoccupied with the boy in the dream, and fury in his eyes, the way he had cursed with such conviction at him.

Since he’d visited, Kaneki’s mind was plagued with regret; his conscience felt guilty and his heart heavy. Thinking about nothing but how sorrowful he felt, he reached to the bedside table and lit a candle to reread for what seemed to be the one hundredth time the letter he’d received this morning.

“Mr Ken Kaneki, 

Please find attached the relevant documentation for your citizen ship to Capital. Accompanied are two other sets of documents to offer two comrades who wish to accompany you citizenship as well. We expect you at the Survey Corp’s government building at 12pm on the afternoon of the 10th. Should you decline this invitation, you shall be summoned by more forceful measures. 

The Survey Corps extends its protection to you and your friends should you agree to safe and revolutionary scientific study of your condition as part ghoul, in assistance to offering you training and experience to work in society after the research has concluded. Your citizenship will remain valid after the research is concluded, as will your place in the Survey Corps should you chose to stay.

Please consider this offer carefully,

Levi Ackerman”

Kaneki sighed deeply. He’d spoken with his family about this – Touka and Ayato had already agreed to come with him (Touka for moral support, Ayato more for physical backup much to Tsukiyama’s dismay) – but he still felt anxious about it all. Not only about leaving the business in Tsukiyama’s less than capable hands, but about seeing the green eyed boy again. He couldn’t remember what he’d introduced himself as, so for now he was a nameless face. A nameless face that haunted his dreams, apparently. In all honesty, that boy had made Kaneki really question his morals. But business was business, and whether it was right or wrong, he needed to survive. Every man for himself in this underground; he was fortunate to have such a closely-knit and large family here and he felt he had to do his part in protecting and providing for them all.

Kaneki scrutinised through the dim lighting his hand crafted calendar on the bedroom wall, that hung at an angle just above Banjou’s loudly snoring head. They’d created it for businesses purposes initially, to keep on track with deliveries and the likes, but now it seemed to be an ominous countdown. While Kaneki felt blessed to have to opportunity to go above ground, he wished it could be on his own terms, on not to be prodded and poked by sharp objects and have notes taken of him. _Beggars can’t be choosers,_ Tsukiyama told him when he’d complained earlier that morning. There were five days before he had to leave the underground, but he figured going on a solo expedition a little earlier wouldn’t hurt anyone – it’d be advisable in fact to get some bearings and understand the customs.

“Kaneki, please go to sleep and blow out that damn candle,” whispered a groggy voice that belonged to a nest of purple bedhead hair.

“Sorry Ayato, I couldn’t sleep.”

“Well now neither can I, so fuck off back to sleep.”

Kaneki blew out the candle momentarily and wriggled to face the crumbly wall on his soiled mattress, not entirely grief-stricken that this was the last night he would spend in the underground.

***

Navigating the Capital didn’t prove to be as tricky a task as Kaneki had first expected, with road-signs hammered to wooden poles on every street corner, directing you to the nearest pub, government building or housing estate, and people seeming gracious enough to point you in the direction when the signposts failed.  Being the second night above ground, Kaneki had become quite acquainted with the male staff in his agreeable, but temporary, accommodation, and had offered to take him out to their favourite restaurant. On this occasion, Kaneki considered it to be wise to spend a little bit of cash on some more urbane clothing if he were to be treated semi-respectfully as someone with a bit of wealth in this society. He chose a tight fitting red shirt with a smart waistcoat and matching slacks. Unfortunately, his funds did not stretch as far as the shoe department, and so he stuck with his fading brown boots that went unpredictably well with the brown belt he’d slipped into his jacket pocket as the shop keeper went to package his purchases.

“So Kaneki, what do you think of this place, eh?” one of the boys bellowed from across the table, chugging a questionable amount of ale from his mug.

“It’s rather pleasant here, the food is outstanding,” he mused, carving at his meat with a steak knife, drooling at the garlic potatoes and brightly coloured vegetables that abundantly decorated his plate. The boys all grunted in response, continuing with the drinking and the eating contentedly. Once the plates were cleaned, another round of drinks ordered which was enough to put everybody in the mood to dance a little to the fiddle band playing away vibrantly at the back of the restaurant. Most of the tables had been cleared to make way for a dance floor, although Kaneki shyly opted to instead stand at the bar and order a whiskey to sip on while the rest of the boys tried attempted pitifully to court a group of young ladies at a corner table, who were listening bashfully, completely smitten by the interest.

“Come on, you’re telling me you came out with me and you won’t even share a danced with me?”

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you.”

The wails of a boy with his head on the bar table were audible from Kaneki’s seat further down the bar, and the short black hair covering the face of a muscular yet feminine physique showed no signs of comforting him. Instead, the girl sighed and angled her head away from the boy, resting it in the palm of her hand, elbow on the pine surface of the bar counter. Her disinterest in her date was evident. Her eyes met with Kaneki, who offered her a sympathetic smile as the boy behind her pawed at her shoulder needily.

“Jean, can you get off me? I came here with you because you wouldn’t leave me alone about it. I’m just getting this over and done with.”

“Oh, that’s not fair at all,” he cried, spinning her barstool round to face him, which made awful screeching noises, which made the bartender jerk round in a fright. “You can’t entertain me for even one night? Just give a sweet kiss and I’ll drop you off at the dorms, I promise.”

“Ugh, you’re so sleazy when you have a drink in you,” she muttered, rising from her seat and snatching her red scarf which was draped unevenly across the barstool. Silently, draped it  around her neck and stuffed her hands in her jacket pocket casually.

“Thanks for the great time, you sure keep it classy,” she stated dryly, turning to face the door. At this point, the boy grasped at the scarf desperately and dragged her close to him in a borderline violent fashion. He began whispering into her ear in what sounded like a nasty tone, which made Kaneki clatter down his drink and stand up. The boy, noticing, faced Kaneki with his grip firmly on the girls scarf.

“The fuck do you want?” he spat.

“Let go of the girl,” Kaneki ordered, infuriated to see someone treated with such disrespect. The boy raised an eyebrow and laughed. He laughed heartily.

“And just who do you think you are? I don’t answer to you, punk. Get out of here.”

Kaneki slowly unbuttoned the cuff of his left sleeve, and pulled it up, repeating the motion on the right side. The girl raised a questioning eyebrow at this, before proceeding to punch the asshole called Jean in the face, after which he crumbled to the ground dramatically, screeching.

“Shit, Mikasa, my fucking nose!” he cried, cradling his and checking for blood which was nowhere to be seen.

“I don’t need saving, but that you for your generosity,” she smiled almost bitterly at Kaneki. Kaneki nodded in response, a little feebly, and sat back down in his chair. ‘Mikasa’ walked out neutrally while the boy crawled back onto the bar stool, left hand covering his nose, right hand knocking back a shot of what could have been vodka or disinfectant for how shit it tasted. Kaneki decided not to tempt fate by striking up another conversation with Jean, and so to avoid the physical conflict, purchased a cigar and matches for the bartender and headed for the door.

Outside it was a little chilly despite the time of year, but Kaneki didn’t mind, because when he looked up he could see the sky. And it was full of glittering stars. He’d always wanted to smoke a cigar and starwatch – not that he’d tried either of the two before – and so walked a short five minutes to a grassy field on the outskirts of the main town lay down. The grass was a little damp from a light shower earlier on in the day, but it was better than no grass at all, so after striking a match and lighting his cigar, Kaneki lay with one hand under his arm and the other cradling his smoke. Today was the 6th, and Touka and Ayato would arrive on the 9th. Contemplating how best to pass the time, the silence of the night outside the town was broken by distant laughter and melodic storytelling. Sitting up, Kaneki saw from a small cluster of trees an amber, flickering light and smoke rising high above the treetops. Glancing from the fire to the stars, Kaneki decided on going to investigate. He had nothing better to do, and perhaps could even make friends of these people.

As he drew closer, he identified three silhouettes positioned to the right side of the fire, away from the direction of the smoke. He could just make out the conversation. Hiding in the shadow of a tree, he listened in, somewhat interested.

‘ _He said what?!’_

_‘He’s so sleazy... don’t think that he can even... another boy tried to fight him...’_

_‘...you beat him to the punch though... wait can you hear...’_

The next one was more clear, more familiar and louder.

“Who’s there?”

The familiarity of the voice resonated through Kaneki and made him shiver, shuffling slowly back into the further shadows of the trees. Holding his breath, trying to blend in and be unnoticed, hairs stood on the back of his neck as he heard the snapping of twigs as the person walked closer and closer in his direction. Had he not have dropped his cigar at that very moment, perhaps he would’ve gotten away with being there. Yet, the smoke and the smoulders from his cigar lit some crunchy leaves around his feet, which brought his face to face with the boy from his nightmare.

“You!” he bellowed, running at Kaneki, arms stretched out to tackle him to the ground. Head clattering off the ground, two strong hands compressing his shoulders – encaging him between fingers and forest floor – the green eyed boy from his nightmares was looking at him through firey green eyes, resisting the strength of the girl from the bar earlier who was trying to prise him from Kaneki.

“Mikasa, this is him, the bastard from the underground-” he started, taking a closed right fist to Kaneki’s jaw, which made his ear ring deafeningly.

“Eren, I don’t care who it is just stop, stop it!” Another pair of hands came at this moment, ripping the monstrous boy from his nightmares away, and allowing time to recover and slouch against a damp tree trunk. He carefully ran his fingers over his jaw, which was achy to the touch, but not painful enough to be a symptom of a more serious injury. Kaneki kept his eyes glued to the ground for if he looked up, he feared that his heart would beat harder than it already was and explode. Or that he would receive another right hook.

A small blonde boy came and sat next to him, and inspected his face gently.

“I’m really sorry about Eren, he really can’t control his anger sometimes. Is your jaw okay, it looks a little swollen already... if you open it, do you feel any clicking or is your range of motion limited?” Kaneki looked into the ocean blue eyes of the boy as he slowly opened his jaw and felt genuine compassion, he felt more comfortable and at ease now. Full range of motion – check. Any strange feelings in his jaw – nope. He shook his head at the boy to let him know that he was okay, and the boy gave a thumbs up in response.

“I’m Armin... and you are Ken, right?”

“How do you know my name?” Kaneki asked, perplexed and alarmed.

“Firstly, I heard it from Eren all week after his trip to the underground. And then, I heard it from Hanji and Levi – they wanted me to befriend you when you arrived to the Survey Corps in a few days, but there’s no harm in getting acquainted a little early.” Armin stretched out a hand to Kaneki, and helped heave him up. Throwing a cautious glance to the right, where Eren and Mikasa were perched on a log by the fire, he corrected Armin.

“My name is Ken, but I prefer Kaneki. It’s my surname.”

“Kaneki it is,” Armin smiled warmly. He too warily peered over at Eren who looked a lot calmer now he had a cider in his hand and Mikasa’s hand resting on his shoulder. Directing Kaneki to the campfire, Armin strategically placed himself between Kaneki and Eren to avoid further conflict.

“It seems that you tearing pieces out of me each time we meet is becoming a regular thing, huh?” Kaneki stammered, only peeking at Eren once. Eren sighed in response, and took another sip of his drink.

“I’m really sorry Kaneki. It’s just, what you do, I don’t just disagree with it politically or morally. I loathe it. Do you know that technically, I’m not a ghoul?” Kaneki shook his head slowly, and accepted the cider that Armin handed to him ‘Capital Dark Fruit Cider’ the label read. Eren continued his story as Kaneki sipped at the sweet liquid. “Did you know that my mother and father both were not ghouls, and that they were sent to the pens? You could have taken either of them, and sold them on as slaves for the super elites of this society. Knowing this, do you expect me to treat you any differently?”

Kaneki shook his head again at all of the questions, which he was pretty sure were rhetorically, but felt too impolite to not answer them to some degree. Eren again sighed, and Mikasa stroked at the top of Eren’s back soothingly.

“Eren,” she started, “do you know this is the boy who tonight tried to defend me when Jean came on too strong?”

Eren redirected his gaze from the fire to Kaneki, eyebrows slightly raised as he took in this information. Blushing, Kaneki turned away.

“He was actually going to fight Jean. I’m surprised he didn’t even after I left, he looked furious.” Eren then turned to Mikasa who looked at him pleadingly, “What I’m trying to say, Eren, is that he isn’t as bad a person as you think. He is made up of both good and bad, like us. He did what he had to do to survive down there – in the underground. You know Levi’s stories, his past. Kaneki is much like him, I think.”

Kaneki sat through the painfully long silence as Eren took in Mikasa’s kind words – he honestly felt his heart twinge with gratitude as Mikasa defended him, and with a little guilt for thinking badly of her dry thanks earlier at the bar. Feeling Armin’s warm smile next to him, with the heat of the fire in front of him, he struggled to understand how he was still shivering inside as Eren’s silence grew longer and longer. Eventually, Eren stood up wordlessly, and came to stand in front of Kaneki. Although his eyes were glued to the ashy grey of his own eyes, Kaneki couldn’t bring himself to look up. Gently, Eren placed out an open hand in front of Kaneki, palm facing upwards.

“Let’s get your things and take you to Levi. But just because I’m not throwing punches at you these days, doesn’t mean I like you any more than I did before.”

Kaneki broke out in a shy smile as he took hold of Eren’s warm hand that pulled him to his feet.

“That’s good enough for me,” he shyly smiled, taking hold of Eren’s outstretched hand which pulled him safely to his feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a killer to write - I just wanted Eren and Kaneki to meet again, but I had to set the scene for Kaneki first. But now I can finally get into the plot line and hopefully it will be very interesting to follow! Thank you for reading the second chapter and please look forward for more.


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